


Desmond and the Codebreaker

by Azlykumos



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Bleeding Effect, Dialogue Heavy, First Meetings, Gen, Philosophy, set during AC2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azlykumos/pseuds/Azlykumos
Summary: After an Animus session, Desmond descends to the warehouse to meet the last member of their group
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Desmond and the Codebreaker

**Author's Note:**

> Alt title: a crossover only I will be interested in, but you all are welcome to hang out

“Well aren’t you a handsome one? Yes you are, look at how sharp your teeth are! Here, here’s some food for you…”

Desmond followed the sound of the cooing down and around the corner, to the more isolated part of the warehouse. His Animus session was wrapped up for the day, and he still had a bunch of energy to try and burn through before their dinner got here. So… off to the warehouse jungle gym it was. 

He found Lizzie sitting on the ground against a support pillar, her laptop on her thigh, and cooing at a rat, scratching it as she fed it a bit of her food. 

“You know, that’ll just make him bring his friends,” Desmond pointed out, coming around to lean against the railing. “And then we’ll have an infestation.” 

Lizzie looked up at him, blinking owlishly for a moment, and then shrugged. “He’s not hurting anyone. Besides, he needs a bit of food, he’s skinny. And I told him not to bring his friends back here, so we should be fine.” 

“You told the rat not to bring his friends here?” Desmond asked, just to clarify. 

“Mmhm,” she said, and pet the little thing on the head. It squeaked and sniffed at her, before investigating curiously for more food. “He’s smart, he knows what I mean.” 

Desmond had no idea if she was pulling his leg or being completely serious. He’d already been through so much this last week that a supposedly sentient rat barely registered. 

“Uh. Sure.” He said, and crossed his arms. “Sorry, I’m a little bit of a disadvantage here. I got to know Shaun and Rebecca some, and I know Lucy from Abstergo, but you’re kind of a mystery for me.” 

“I mean, you’ve only been here a few days, right?” She asked, smiling at him. “And I’m usually down here, instead of in the Animus room.” 

“Yeah, why is that?” Desmond asked, gesturing to the warehouse. “You don’t even have a chair down here, let alone a desk or anything. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs? With the air conditioning?” 

Lizzie laughed slightly and pet the rat again, and got it to cuddle up into her lap. The image was cute, but as a long time New Yorker Desmond wanted to tell her that it would skin her alive. 

“I’m somewhat claustrophobic,” she admitted. “I’m better than I was as a kid, but sometimes it still gets to me. The warehouse feels bigger, compared to the tiny loft. And well, Shaun and Rebecca banter so much, it’s hard to think.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Desmond chuckled, and slowly came over to sit down. “I’m usually wrapped up in the Animus so I don’t hear them often, but sometimes…”

“Speaking of,” she said, and started to tap at her laptop. “ I have the first few glyphs you’ve found decoded. The ones from Subject Sixteen. There’s more to them, but I got the base encryption out of the way.” 

“Oh hey, that’s awesome!” Desmond said, grinning as he leaned over to view the laptop. On one screen was a program that seemed to be partially animus tech, and the other was an email screen. The message she had open was just filled with lines, looking like slashes or Is. 

“You read cuneiform?” He asked, lifting a brow. 

“Huh? Oh, no,” she said, and closed out of the email. Her desktop had a picture of herself from a few years ago, a younger girl, and an older teenage boy, who was covered in scars. Their features were similar enough that Desmond would bet that they were related. “Well, I can read sometimes, I studied it in college, but that’s not cuneiform, it’s Claw.” 

“Claw?” He asked, keeping an eye on the rat. 

“An alphabet my siblings and I use to talk,” she smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s encoded even through the alphabet. I doubt anyone could read it, even if they were to hack into Hephaestus.” 

“Family, huh?” He mused, and leaned back. “Does that mean you’re not a born Assassin?” 

“Nope!” She said cheerily, and sat back against the support beam. “I’m actually sort of similar to Shaun, except I got caught hacking into Hephaestus, not Abstergo. I usually operate out of home base, but Rebecca and Shaun asked me to help with this job, considering how important the Animus is.” 

“What do you usually do, then?” 

“I’m a code breaker, and a hacker,” she said, a touch of pride in her voice. “I can break any encryption, any code, if given enough time, and even then it doesn’t take me long. Hacking’s more of a required skill in the Brotherhood nowadays, so I picked it up by proxy, but code is my specialty.” 

“And I suppose that also translates to genetic code?” He asked, a wry smile on his face. 

“Now you’re getting it!” Lizzie grinned. “Though not quite—Lucy’s better at genetics than I am, but I did help her get the initial programming for turning genetic code into computer code, and digitizing it into something readable.” 

Desmond frowned at that, tilting his head. Didn’t that mean Lizzie would’ve known Lucy in college, or…? Lizzie looked a little young for that. 

At his confused glance, she chuckled. “I went to college when I was fifteen. I graduated high school when I was fourteen, got my GED and everything. I didn’t get recruited until I was about eighteen though.” 

“Yeah?” Desmond asked, feeling vaguely sick. He was sixteen when he ran, and hearing that she was barely older than that was …. unsettling. But he didn’t let it show. “What about your family? You must be close, to keep exchanging emails even in the Brotherhood.” 

Lizzie grimaced, and scratched the rat in her lap. “Gregor isn’t happy with me, yeah. Thinks I’ve thrown away my life for some stupid reason. Boots thinks it’s great, but she doesn’t understand what I do. She thinks I just travel.”

“Boots?” He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s great. Gotta say, though, your brother might be onto something. Being an Assassin isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.” 

“That’s why you ran away?” She asked, lifting a brow at him. Shaun had made it judgemental, but she didn’t, strangely enough. “Most everyone’s heard about how you left the Farm when you were a teenager.” 

Desmond shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. Normal civilians would’ve seen it as defensive, or hiding, but to Assassins it was a non-threatening gesture, a willingness to talk. “Thought I was being raised in a cult, and that everyone was a liar.” 

Lizzie quirked an eyebrow at him. “… Gregor thinks that too.” 

“Your brother’s probably right,” he said lightly. “I may be here because I want to get back at those Abstergo bastards, but… doesn’t change how the Assassins are run. He sounds like a smart kid.” 

Lizzie smiled at that, looking down at the rat in her lap and scratching his ears once again. She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking so hard that Desmond could practically hear it. 

“I figured…” She started, her voice trailing off. 

“Figured what? Use your skills for something good, or something like that?” Desmond asked, and just barely managed to keep the laugh out of his voice. He still wasn’t sure if the Assassins were doing good, more just… Trying to stop things from getting worse. 

“Well, something like that,” Lizzie admitted, looking away to the warehouse. Her voice was quiet, melancholy, even. “I’ve done a lot of good with my skills before, so I thought I might as well throw my lot in with some to try and do even more good. I watched my brother and little sister get caught up in a lot of stuff, unable to get away, and I hated it. It had already claimed our father, and even our mom. I wanted to be the last one to stick it out, until I couldn’t, not anymore, and I was swept up into everything, trying to prevent a war, or at least prevent some more losses.” 

Desmond stared at her, feeling slightly out of his depth. But something about the way she talked called to him and the way he had seen Altair, and now Ezio, got thrown into situations out of their control. Grand and oppressive, leaving scars on both sides. 

“So I got involved,” she shrugged, still staring out over the warehouse. Her eyes skimmed over the boxes, clearly thinking about something else. Maybe even seeing something else. “I learned a lot, helped save a lot of lives by using my talents. Codebreakers like me were as rare as trees, or so the saying goes.” 

“That…. Doesn’t make any sense,” Desmond said, laughing a little to cover his nervousness. Reflexively, he looked, and Looked again. She was blue, just like Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling. 

“Not here, no,” she said, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it. Long, long story short… I want to help. I’m good at it. Gregor… He sort of got thrown into it, without meaning to, and he still has scars for it. Understandably, he doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Desmond said quietly, so not to let his words echo up to the loft above. 

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, and looked down at the rat in her lap. He yawned and rolled over to get more comfortable, little paws sticking up in the air. “But, Desmond, could you live with yourself if you had the ability to do something good, and then just… not do it?” 

Desmond looked down at his hand, lifting it up to stare at his left ring finger. It felt weird to have it, somehow. He flexed his fingers, and automatically tried to trigger his hidden blade. The fact that the last one he touched was a modern ceramic one in the Farm when he was fifteen didn’t even factor, really, he just missed the comforting weight of a bracer. 

“You know?” He murmured, looking at her over his fist. “I think I’m going to find out, one way or another.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This was more an attempt to get this out of my head than anything serious. I have a larger plot idea but nothing solid, and well. I need to finish ac3 before I really start working on this.


End file.
